SCENT FROM THE LIBRARY
This is her name. The silent girl or woman, I do not know, who I see passing by my door everyday. Silently she walks. Retreating in the way she says 'Good morning'. Alone in her world. Totally alone. No one knows who she is, or what she does. She sits in her own space. The library. A neglected place in our company that no one goes there. Hardly enter this room. She sits in there, no one know what she is doing. Just there. You know she is alive when you see her in the kitchen, bump to her in the elevator, smell her old perfume. Other than that, no one really cares about her. But the interesting part is that she seems to not care about anyone either. Kind, shy and super introvert as she might be, sad and insecure is what I see hidden inside. I personally see her shadow. Smile at her. Try to extend the rapid good morning, to 'How are you Abeer? Nice accessories.' To which she would give a fast bow with her body language, smile and then leave. She calls me 'Anaessa H....